At the Last Minute
by nymaeria
Summary: Jack struggles to talk to Sam. Originally written for a writerverse prompt on Livejournal. Set after Season 8. Sam/Jack.


Sam closes her eyes against the orange glow of the late afternoon sun and lets the warm breeze wash over her. She leans back into the lounge chair, taking in the rhythmic sounds of trees rustling behind her and water lapping against the dock. She smiles to herself. She could really get used to this.

"How you doing, Carter?" The voice of her CO penetrates her relaxed haze.

She opens one eye and looks up to see him standing on the edge of the dock, wearing swim trunks and a t-shirt, beer in hand. She smiles. "Fabulous, Sir. I haven't felt this relaxed since… well, in a long time."

Jack saunters over and drops into the lounge chair next to her, swinging his feet up and plopping his beer on the armrest with a single, practiced motion.

"Where are the guys?" she asks, her eyes closed again.

"Ran out for steaks. All we had left for dinner was pasta, and T decided he wasn't in the mood for eating light."

"Ah."

"Yep."

They sit in companionable silence for several minutes, soaking in the warm sun.

"Hey, Carter?"

"Yes, Sir?"

Jack squirms a bit in his chair. "Do you ever think that maybe, just maybe, perhaps, you know…"

Sam opens one eye and quirks an eyebrow at him.

Jack sighs. "Nevermind."

Sam looks at him for a minute longer, but he closes his eyes again and leans back into his chair, apparently intent on resuming his quiet enjoyment of the afternoon.

Sam shrugs and re-closes her own eyes.

—

"Ah, that was delicious. I've been craving that for ages!" Daniel leans back from the table, his hands resting on his stomach in contentment. "You have no idea how frustrating it was to spend so much time in a diner and not be able to eat."

Sam smiles. "Poor Daniel. And it was pretty tasty. Thanks, Sir." Jack had grilled the steaks, and they'd only been a little singed.

Teal'c lets out a happy sigh before standing up, carrying his plate. "I will begin with the dishes."

Daniel stands up too. "I'll help pack up the leftovers."

Sam stays silent, hoping no one will notice her attempt to avoid doing the dishes. After a moment, only she and Jack remain at the table.

"So, Carter…" Jack begins, and then stops.

"Yes, Sir?" Sam looks over at Jack. He seems oddly nervous to her.

"Well, I just… I mean, I never had a chance to say… well, I'm sorry about Pete." Jack brow furrows, and he's looking anywhere but at her.

Sam's eyes widen in surprise. "You are?"

Jack nods, "Sure." He frowns uncertainly. "I mean, aren't you?"

Sam's eyebrows rise. "Me? No, not really." She looks down. "I mean, I feel pretty guilty about it…" She looks up, staring off sideways into space. "I shouldn't have let it get that far." Her eyes meet Jacks' and she shrugs. "But no, I'm not sorry it ended."

"Oh." Jack looks thoughtful and almost… relieved. He gives her a small smile and says, "Well, okay then."

Sam returns his smile and they stay like that for a moment, grinning at each other.

"So, um, Carter. Do you ever think about… I mean, would you ever want to, well, I was thinking, sometime maybe we could." He sighs in apparent frustration. "I just mean, if you ever want to talk about it…" He trails off and seems to take a sudden interest in pushing his leftover peas around his plate.

Sam blinks in confusion. This version of O'Neill is one she's never encountered before, and she's not sure what to make of it. "Talk? Sir?"

Jack nods a little too enthusiastically and waves his hands. "Yeah, talk. Why not? We're friends; we talk. Right?"

Sam nods slowly, her eyebrows rising in amusement. "Ok, sure." This has to be one of the strangest conversations they've ever had. "Thanks, Sir."

After several moments of awkward silence, she pushes her chair back from the table and stands up. Maybe she should help with the dishes after all. "Well, I think I'll see what the guys are up to, Sir. Thanks again for dinner." She turns and heads into the kitchen.

After she leaves, Jack slumps over the table, head in hands, and sighs loudly.

"Talk," he chastises himself as he shakes his head. "For crying out loud, O'Neill."

When had he become such a nervous wreck?

—

Their last morning at the cabin, Sam sneaks out to the dock to enjoy one last quiet sunrise over the pond. The toads are singing and the birds chirping their pre-dawn song as she lowers herself down onto the wooden dock, coffee in hand. She swings her feet through the cool water, splashing it with her toes, and wraps her hands around her warm mug. She draws in a deep breath and releases it in contentment. It's so peaceful and relaxing here; she can see why Jack is drawn to this place.

Just as the sun is peeking through the bottom of the trees on the opposite side of the pond, Sam hears footsteps beside her. She turns to see Jack padding his way toward her in his bare feet. He's also carrying a cup of coffee and he smiles at her before sitting down close beside her. They sit quietly together, watching the sky brighten as the sun crests over the tree line.

"It's beautiful here." Sam looks over at Jack and smiles.

Jack studies her, his own features relaxed as his eyes trail over her face. They're sitting so close their legs are almost touching and she can feel the warmth radiating from him. What she sees in his gaze startles her, although she can't say why. She has both known is was there and avoided seeing it for years now.

"Yes." Jack says softly, looking into her eyes. "It is beautiful here."

Sam swallows hard and finds she's holding her breath. The birdsong and the rustling of the trees in the breeze fade to quiet as they stare at each other intensely.

After several long moments, Sam drops her gaze shyly to the water. She's not sure what to say next. Despite Jack being the one with the reputation for not talking, the truth is, she's not all that good at it either. "I see why you like it here," she says quietly.

Jack shifts so that he is facing the water. "Well, that and the all fish, of course," he jokes. They both know the pond is empty.

Sam laughs and the tension is broken, but the moment has also passed.

"C'mon," Jack says, as he pushes off the dock. "Let me make you some pancakes."

—

The flight back to Colorado is uneventful. It's early evening when they land and the sun is turning the sky a glorious orange as it sets behind the mountains. Jack offers everyone a ride home, and drops Daniel and Teal'c off at the mountain. He teases them about being too eager to get back to work, before heading out to Carter's neighborhood to drop her off.

Sam rolls down the truck window and lets the evening breeze of early summer ruffle her hair. They ride in companionable silence, each quietly enjoying the company of the other. By the time they pull into Sam's driveway, the wild colors of the early sunset have turned into the deep, rich hues of late twilight.

Sam looks over at Jack and smiles, "Thanks, Sir. It was a nice weekend." Jack smiles in return. "Yeah, it was. Thanks for coming, Carter."

She pulls open the door, hops out and walks around the truck. She hefts her duffel out of the back before turning to walk toward her house.

"Hey, Carter!" Jack calls from inside the truck. Sam pauses by the open passenger window and leans on the edge, duffel still thrown over her other shoulder. "Yes, Sir?"

Jack leans toward her, and asks her through the window, "Wanna catch a movie sometime? Maybe dinner first?"

Sam drops her duffel, folds both her arms over the window frame and grins.

"You know, I thought you'd never ask."

— fin —


End file.
